Mutual Alleviation
by WaddleBuff
Summary: Saber pays Celica's room a visit during a resting period in Zofia Harbor. With some wine and laughter, the relaxed pair realize they both want something from each other. And it doesn't take long for that want to turn into need. [Heavy Smut]
1. Chapter 1

Celica had to stifle a laugh, biting down into the wood of her tankard. Across from her, the mercenary she had hired a few weeks ago attempted to drunkenly recite some ancient Zofian poem he had heard from a priest. Her eyes were half-lidded but her pupils still shone as brightly as the earrings that twinkled in the candlelight of the room.

"You've impressed me, enough, Saber. You can stop trying now," Celica said, finally cracking up as Saber sat in genuinely confused silence for a few seconds, his eye squinting in hard recollection.

He looked at her then, that roguish grin of his curled on his lips.

"Then you don't need much to be impressed, lass."

"Celica, please," she said, absentmindedly placing a reassuring hand on Saber's arm. She kept it there as she took another swig of wine, not noticing the look Saber gave her, nor the fire that tingled on his skin.

This was the second night Saber had visited her room.

After several weeks of seafaring, hacking and blasting their way through pirate raid after pirate raid, and sieging a pirate king himself, Celica had decided that the party needed a well-earned rest once they reached Zofia Port. With that, the five of them had settled on an inn located above the town's tavern (suggested, of course, by Saber).

Each of the rooms were spacious, housing a bed in the corner next to windows looking down upon the busy seaport streets, a small desk in the opposite corner, and a wash basin with its respective stand. In the corner of the upper floor was a communal bathroom, one that Celica had stayed in for far too long the first night they stayed there.

And when she was finally satisfied, she had walked back to her room, contentedly wringing out her hair with a towel to find Saber in front of her room, a tall dark glass of wine in one hand, two wooden tankards in the other.

At first, she was hesitant. Sure, she had fought with Saber in the past weeks, but he was still a relative stranger, a much older one at that. He easily could have ulterior motives for wanting to share a celebratory drink in her room. Besides that, she wasn't sure she could trust any wine that wasn't made from the grapes of Novis, aged to perfection in the catacombs of the monastery.

But an hour after she took Saber up on his offer, and she found herself surprisingly relaxed, amused, and, for the first time since the forest strolls with Alm as a child, carefree. Saber was a much more entertaining man that she had first assumed. That hard-edged, all-business mercenary melted away once a few sips of alcohol slipped into him (which was not half-bad by Celica's standards; apparently, it was fabled "Ram wine" that he kept a few bottles of in his knapsack).

The Saber who joked and grinned mischievously in front of her that night was hilarious and an expert at helping Celica forget that the weight of the world was quite literally on her shoulders. But the thing that surprised her the most was that on top of all of that, the older one-eyed man was surprisingly charming.

When he joked, she couldn't help but joke back. And when he drunkenly let slip a flirt, Celica couldn't help but slip out a flirt in response.

She could feel his eyes linger and wander when she wasn't looking; the white nightgown she wore in her room wasn't exactly the most modest article of clothing in her possession. And she prayed to gods he didn't feel hers when she admired to strong lines of his face, the sinews of his bared biceps usually concealed with armor. Maybe it was the alcohol that night, but Celica could swear that she felt something that she rarely felt around Saber, amongst other things that she could never feel or talk about in the stuffy halls of the monastery.

So, before Saber left that night, mere minutes before the sun broke from the watery curtains of the sea, she asked if he could come back the next night. He gave her a look of surprise, but then he gave her that roguish grin that made her heart feel like she was committing a crime before he said, "Anything for you, priestess."

The next morning, a miniature headache echoing in her skull, Celica couldn't help but already look forward to the evening. As it drew closer and closer during the day, she found herself feeling self-conscious around Saber as the party did shopping errands and explored the seaport. Occasionally he would crack a joke that nobody understood other than her. He would wink at her, as if it was a dirty little secret, and, without fail, Celica would grin at him with a small blush.

Whatever she was feeling, it felt wrong and right all at once, and she missed that sensation of utter liberty in the atmosphere Saber created the night before. Her hand absentmindedly clutched her turnwheel more than once that day when her heart confusedly hammered in her chest.

Finally, the night arrived, and just as planned, Saber knocked on her door with yet another bottle of Ram wine and two wooden tankards. Celica's hands were clammy and she felt nervous for a reason unknown to her as she stood behind that door. With her nightgown, she had decided to wear the hair band she usually wore, along with the two earrings gifted to her by Nomah when she was a child.

Unbeknownst to her, the auburn-haired man that stood on the other side of the door was as nervous as she was.

Saber stood there, gripping the alcohol and the cups with his heart pounding. What was he even doing here?

At first, he really did mean the words that he spat at her during their journey. He was only in this for the money. But soon…she had caught his interest because of how much he looked like her little sister, the sister he had left behind. And beyond that, the way she swung her sword, the flame behind her eyes…and the way she joked or the way she had looked at him the night before…Saber felt something inside that had been dormant for years.

What it was, he didn't want to acknowledge. And the strange guilt he felt as she opened the door and he felt his heart skip when he saw her in that nightgown again, that could wait another time.

Regardless of the collective nervousness, the two occupants of Celica's room drank on, carefree. Soon, that nervousness dissipated. There was laughter, jokes, but there was something else. There was a strange tension between them that felt like it had been built and fermented for the past weeks. Like a winding spring about to violently snap and explode.

From Celica's side, that tension was due to her sheltered upbringing. Lewd curiosity mixed with the need to relieve stress no girl her age should _ever_ be burdened with.

From Saber's, the tension was just due to Celica herself. Unlike the priestess, he had felt this before, and acted on it more times than he could count. But to be so physically close to her, a girl so regal, untouched, and pure…the thoughts that began to run through his intoxicated head were dastardly.

But the night went on, and the bottle of Ram wine began to empty.

Just like the night before, Celica felt carefree. And soon, for the first time in forever, she finally felt independent. Grown-up.

Which was why, an hour or two after they had several tankards of wine with the blush of alcohol on their cheeks, when Celica felt that strange, heated sensation in her belly, she didn't feel scared.

She leaned rested her cheek on her palm as Saber recounted a story detailing a hilarious escort he once had. In that moment, with the way the light flickered softly on his face, the way it danced on his mouth, and how strong his hands looked when the action of his narrative needed some demonstration, Celica couldn't help but feel her pulse go a little faster.

Was she letting the alcohol cloud her judgment as she bit down on her lip, letting her face leave her hand? Probably.

Would she regret it later as she quietly leaned over to the mercenary whose attention was wholly preoccupied with his story? Also, probably.

Did the fire in her stomach explode into a hot sensation she had never felt before as her hand grasped the side of his surprised face and she pressed her soft, needy lips against his? Yes. Most definitely, yes.

And did she want to stop as the kiss deepened, and she felt him kiss her back with his hand grabbing the back of her head?

No. Most definitely not.

* * *

 _My first foray into Fire Emblem! This is obviously gonna be pure smut, so expect thousands of words of boinking._

 _Reviews and favs tell me if I should keep going, so they'd be much appreciated._


	2. Chapter 2

Breaking free from his drunken stupor, Saber gained enough self-control to grab Celica's shoulders and push her away.

"Wh-What do you think you're doing there, lass?"

Saber gulped at the way she looked at him, innocent blush on her soft cheeks, lips wet, eyes fiery and hungry.

After a moment of hesitation, Celica spoke, almost in a whisper.

"I'm doing what I want."

Saber let out a scoff. An uncharacteristically-nervous one.

"Well, that's not very priestessy of you, now is it?"

"You'll find that there are many aspects of me that don't fall in line with your preconceptions, Mr. Mercenary."

Celica closed the distance between their mouths again, but before he could fight back, there was a scrape of a chair against wood, and he felt the young girl straddle his lap. The pressure of her weight against the tension that was rising in his pants made him grunt. Celica's soft, soft fingers pressed against the back of Saber's head as her kisses intoxicated him more than the Ram wine ever could.

He didn't know why she was doing this or if she even should, but the way that she pressed her breasts against his neck, tilting his mouth upwards to interlock with hers…he'd be lying if this wasn't the best he's felt in years.

Saber gently kissed her back as she cradled his head. Her lips were inexperienced, but hungry. He knew he could satisfy what young needs she had; gods knew he wanted to. He let the girl kiss her like that, letting her control what his mouth parried, letting her hands grip him while his lay limp at his sides. He felt her breasts push up on him closer and the want to reach out and slip under the flimsy frills of her nightgown grew more urgent.

It was obvious now that the fire that had awoken in him the night before, the tension that had been silently building whenever he looked at her during those weeks at sea was mutual. And as that fire began to kindle and rage inside of him, Saber began to realize just how much he wanted her, and what his hands wanted to do to her.

Meanwhile, Celica's drunken actions surprised her. Was she mad? She had never kissed anyone, much less kissed them this… _intimately_. And with someone she barely knew!

She didn't know how old he was (probably twice the number of her years). She didn't know much about him except the hundreds of travels he fared. She didn't even know where he was from.

She suddenly felt the comfortable warmth on her mouth leave her. Her eyes fluttered open in surprise, breaths short.

"Lass…" Saber said, soberly. He took one of the hands off his face, clutching it with his own. Celica's eyes were hazy, but she could see his pupil shimmered in the same way, if not moreso. "Do you really want to do this? You barely know me. I barely know you. Shouldn't this be saved for someone…special?"

Celica's pulse raced faster. It was as if he read her mind. He had a good point, and she knew that this definitely wasn't the most responsible thing to do. Who knew that she, a priestess of Mila, the very object of purity, would have been the one to even initiate this situation?

A million things ran through her mind then, but again she felt that unfamiliar fire in her stomach. It was spreading through her loins. Her eyes wandered to Saber's arms again, the broad chest that took an arrow for her sake during a pirate raid the week before.

And suddenly, with determined clarity, she slipped her hand from his. Deftly she reached atop her scalp and ripped off the hairband keeping her scarlet curls in check, throwing it aside to the floor. With a flourish she whipped her hair about, letting it flow freely.

Saber gulped at the sight. Stray candlelight framed her hair. Her scarlet eyes burned brightly below the line of her bangs, burning with what Saber now recognized as young lust.

She looked older, wilder. The curls that cascaded to her shoulders were uncharacteristically free of any restraint. Yet her eyes were resolute and almost…regal in the way they defied his.

"Celica, is my name. And I would appreciate it if you called me that. I've told you that I wanted this. Wanted you. So, don't go around thinking that I am just a young girl who's in over her head," she said before hiccupping. A blush spread onto her cheeks, and Saber couldn't help but smirk.

He could see that she was about to say something else. But Saber didn't let a second pass before his hand gripped the back of her neck, pulling her mouth to his. She squeaked in surprise, to which the mercenary let his other hand finally smooth itself up her thigh. The squeak turned into a whimper.

He didn't need to hold back now. She was right; she was old enough to make her own decisions. She wanted him, simple as that. And as Celica shifted her weight in his lap, rubbing against his rigidness again, he was reminded of how much he wanted her too.

The kisses were all directed by Saber now. Her small, soft lips struggled to keep up with the pace of his coarser, more experienced ones. He reveled in the way her hot breaths mingled with the roof of his mouth. He savored the taste of wine that her mouth still held. The hand behind her neck began to crawl upwards slightly, digging itself into her hair. He tightened the grip teasingly, earning a breathy sigh.

Meanwhile, his other hand did the same before smoothing down again. He always admired her legs, what little she exposed. Saber's mind remembered their creamy complexion below her battle-skirt. And now, those thighs were under his touch. He would enjoy this as much as he could before the night was over.

Celica breathed hard through her nose. In Mila's name, she never knew the mere act of kissing could get her so excited. She was planting sloppy, juttering pecks before but what Saber was doing to her now, it was demanding, a dance with a tempo that she could barely keep up with. She felt his goatee brush against her chin every few seconds but she was too preoccupied with how his lips tasted to care. Again and again their lips clasped and unclasped, moist breaths making love between their tongues. It felt like Saber wanted to devour her, and at this point, Celica would have let him.

As the kisses grew deeper and more intense, Saber dared the hand at her thigh to slide into her nightgown. Before she could stop him, his hand was around her plump rear. She gave a surprised whimper and tried to pull away from him, but his other hand behind her head kept her captive. She had no choice but to bounce and writhe on top of him, that motion merely making the man below her more aroused by the second. His hand squeezed under all of that lace, feeling the warm softness of her hidden skin with a thirsty grasp.

This went on for more than a minute until Celica's own hands began to wander. Her dainty fingers trailed down his thick neck, brushing over his shoulders until her palms meandered down his biceps. She felt her breath hitch at the definition of them, at how thick his arms were. She couldn't control her grip as she started squeezing, admiring every weathered line of Saber's muscle. She moved on to his chest, disappointed at the cloth that covered it.

Saber wanted to be more daring still, about to let go of a squeeze that would dig his fingernails into Celica's unblemished ass when he started to feel her nail clawing at him.

He opened his eye, seeing hers half-lidded but pleading.

He knew what she wanted.

Their mouths finally separated, glistening with shared saliva, hot with want.

They shared a look. Saber retracted his hand from behind her, letting the coarse, calloused fingers run along her thigh. Celica's chest rose and fell, and she fought back from biting her lip as the hand behind her hair also retracted. With a swift upwards stroke, Saber tore the tight shirt off his body. He let the young girl inspect him, smiling cockily at how her eyes widened at all of his scars, the definition of his muscle.

He expected her to trail her fingers across his softly heaving chest, but instead she brought her hands to her left earlobe, with the obvious intention of taking off the glistening gold of her earrings.

"Wait!" Saber said, shooting out a hand to grab her wrist. "Keep them on…"

She gave him a strange look, but she smiled, leaning forward and letting her palms rest on his pecs. Her scarlet eyes looked mischievous and horny and nervous all at once.

"As long as you keep that hideous eyepatch of yours on, you pirate."

Saber could swear he felt a chill run down his spine as her hot breaths wisped achingly over his mouth.

"Deal."

With that, Celica's lips were on his again. The coldness of the surrounding room dissipated once her hands finally rested on his chest. He felt her curious, inexperienced fingers fumble and draw circles, sketching lines and softly digging etchings. His own hands began to run up and down her bare arms. He felt the goosebumps below his skin. But the skin was still smooth, the smoothest skin he'd ever touched, and he was positive that no other man had ever touched it.

Her kisses started to match his now. Her head shifted from side to side, breaths leaving the small gap between their lips. Saber deigned to heave through his nostrils; he could inhale her scent, smell the sweet mix of her skin and something akin to honey. He realized the hands that he had running up and down her arms were already going down her back. The nightgown was so thin he could feel the heat radiate pulsing off her skin.

Celica couldn't believe how lustful she was being. It was as if she couldn't control her mouth as it open and closed and puckered against Saber's; kissing felt good. Too good. Like some sort of dark spell from a Rigelian cultist.

Then there was how solid Saber felt under her hardness of his chest and the way his muscles seemed to shift with effort just to appreciate her made her skin feel like it was on fire. She felt so utterly naughty at letting this man touch like her like this. Her breaths came out short and fast at the feeling of his large hands smoothing down her hips.

Those hands began bunching up her nightgown from behind now, leaving her rear exposed. The lace band of her panties were suddenly breached…slowly and slowly as his fingers slipped furtively inside. She let out another moan into his mouth, feeling it echo into her lips as his hands finally fully grasped her asscheeks.

Nobody had ever been there before, ever even touched that area. It was so sensitive and the skin unblemished. As Saber groped her rear, squeezing it with such enthusiastic vigor…the physical contact didn't just make her blush, but the fact that he was enjoying it as much as he did.

Then, as Celica thought her heart couldn't pound any faster, her eyes shot open as something hot and wet slipped past her lips. She was forced to open her lips wider, whimpering at whatever it was that now tangled between her teeth. To make it worse, Saber was now grabbing her rear in earnest. She felt his nails painfully dig into her soft, plump ass, making her entire body grind against him. She could feel his erection poke at her stomach through his trousers, as if reminding her of his needs.

It took her a few seconds to realize that Saber had shoved his tongue into her mouth. The taste of wine flooded her sense then, and strange as it was, Celica began to close her eyes at the sensation and found that she loved it. Her own tongue fought back, trying to parry the circles and lashes Saber flicked in her mouth. It was a heated struggle, one that gave off sparks of pleasure as warm, collective saliva began to dribble between their mouths.

Normally the notion of this would have been so strange to Celica, maybe even disgusting. But having Saber overpower her like this, his mouth and tongue wanting to taste every inch of hers felt taboo in all the right ways. Soon he began to retract the appendage, deigning to kiss her passionately, separating for only the briefest of moments until his tongue and hers were wrestling, tousling with need. In one of those in-between moments, Celica realized two things:

1\. How wet she was.

2\. How her hips were moving of their own accord, instinctively rubbing her core against the tent pitched in Saber's pants.

It took her a while to also notice that her hands were hugging Saber's head, as if he would try to escape without her fingers' grip.

But as Saber sat there, with this young, 17-year-old priestess grinding against his arousal, thighs bare with her elegant nightgown hitched up all the way to her waist, he wouldn't escape even if it meant a fat pouch of gold was in it for him.

He was surprised that he didn't even have to push her body against his anymore; her hips bucked naively, without any of the expert coordination he had experienced with the many women he'd made love to. He just didn't expect them to be in this position when less than half an hour ago, all they exchanged were jokes and the occasional flirt. And here they were tangled on top of a chair, swapping heat and dribble.

Saber hadn't felt this aroused from mere kissing since he was a teenager. He kept his eyes open slightly. She was so into it, so keen on learning how to pleasure him, how to pleasure herself. The way her small tongue fought back against his felt oh-so-dirty, indicators of her age. His hands had since left the haven of her warm ass, and instead he contentedly ran them up and down her silky thighs. He swore to gods he couldn't get enough of how they felt beneath his touch, soft, plump with a hint of electricity that made his cock twitch.

He couldn't even _remember_ the last time he was this hard.

The kisses continued relentlessly. Saliva pooled between their chins, the clear spittle soaking Saber's auburn goatee before dripping between them, splattering on his abs. Celica's little mouth sucked and swallowed like his tongue was oxygen Instead of intakes of air, Celica would moan her mewling, teenage moans. Her brows furrowed in concentration as she learned, hungered for more. They would separate for air with satisfying smacks, lips empty without each other, before again their mouths would continue to be intrinsically inseparable.

Saber could feel drops of sweat roll down his neck. He felt how painful his erection strained against his trousers, the pre-cum at the tip collecting in the fabric. Then, he felt one of Celica's naughty, dainty little hands grasp that boner, and tentatively begin to stroke it.

He separated from her then, letting out a moan that was more of a roar. A string of saliva stretched out between their lips like a bridge before breaking in the center. Celica had stopped her hips from moving. Both of their eyes locked.

Saber's hands gripped her thighs tightly as he gritted his teeth. Now both of her hands were on Saber's clothed erection, up and down, her palm pressing against his straining head.

"Lass…if you keep doing that," Saber said breathlessly, heaving with effort. "then I can't promise that I can stop what's to come. Augh…" he stopped, shutting his eye, tortured by his own libido as a pulse ran through it. "I'm going to do things to you that you're not prepared for. I'm going to use you like a plaything. I've been eyeing you for weeks, lass, and I'm going to pour into you everything that I've imagined."

Celica held his gaze. Her own lips, tired and maybe bruised, lay agape. She breathed hard, sweat already beginning to appear in droplets on her clavicle. Her earrings twinkled behind her curls of scarlet, and she let silence pervade the space between them.

In reality, she was slightly nervous as her hands played with whatever alien… _thing_ twitched in Saber's trousers. But gods, she was wet. She had experimented on herself before, obviously, but only with her fingers. Never with toys, Mila forbid. And yet that large, long lusting thing that Saber had…she was ever-so-curious how it would feel inside of her, curious if it would scratch that strange itch that blazed inside of her core that never blazed this bright before.

"I trust you are a man of your own word, then," Celica finally said, softly. She was so addled with lust that it was hard to formulate anything clever. "Because what you've listed, I want you to do to me. I've never felt the touch of a man, never kissed, yet tonight I want to feel it all at once. I want to feel what you've made others feel. Take me and show me what it's like to be a woman. Try to break me, because I can assure you it will take more than a few pathetic thrusts from a mercenary to crack my tenacity."

The words had tumbled carelessly from her lips, and Celica blushed the moment she uttered them. What in Mila's name was she thinking? As someone of royal blood, the monastery had always expected her words to never be minced, yet always be elegant. Many a time she had said things without even thinking, making them flowery and beautiful to fit her image. But now, that auto-speech skill of hers was about to get her into a whole world of trouble.

She could see that her words were taking an instant effect on him. The fire on his eye practically _glowed_ now. Fear began to spread into that carnal-focused mind of hers now.

But as she squealed when Saber growled and lifted her by her thighs to place her on the table behind her, she couldn't help but feel wetter.

He seized her lips again. This time, rougher, more dominant. There was _no_ restraints, in fact, Celica had made it crystal clear that whatever he wanted to do to her, she'd want it too.

She whimpered and moaned at the invasion of mouth. And squealed again into his mouth when she suddenly felt his hand slip into her panties and start fingering her core.

Just as Saber had guessed, the naughty priestess was damp, hot, and wanting. His fingers firmly rubbed the outside of her virgin lips. He wanted to feel just how much she wanted this, just how ready she was. And as those fingers began to close in, one of them daring to wriggle inside of her, he knew that the demands she gave earlier were the truth.

Celica attempted to pull back from his mouth, opening it with gasps of air. But Saber merely pushed his entire body against his. The table beneath her shivered. Her breath hitched as his strength forced her legs apart to grant him some room. He punished her with his fingers digging deeper, working fiery magic inside of her folds, curling upwards, thumb finding her swollen clit.

She had read a few novellas back in the monastery. Dirty, juvenile stories written by traveling bards, confiscated from the younger monks by the high priests. Usually in those stories, the men were always so mischievous yet dashing. Always so teasing, driving the women in the stories to the brink with their charm, making the young Celica blush, turning as red as her pupils.

Saber was not one of those men in the novellas.

As she finally separated from his lips, heaving for breath with her eyes pleading, he didn't grin at her. Nor did he say anything charming. Instead he looked at her with an eye of a hungry beast. His left hand was on her waist to keep her in place as his right continued to roughly stimulate her, shoot firecrackers of pleasure throughout her nerves. He wasn't one of those seductive heroes she had read about, but as he introduced another finger inside of her, stretching out her tightness more than she had ever done herself, she wouldn't have it any other way.

She could hear them now, the soft squishes from below her. They got louder as Saber dared to push in deeper. His eye was burning into hers and she could feel his breaths, hot and wispy on her face. Like a dragon. Then she couldn't hear the lewdness anymore as her throat let out noises she didn't even know she could make; the novellas never told her mere fingers would feel this good.

There was a technique to the roughness Saber utilized. But she didn't care at this point. His thumb kept rubbing on her clit that shocked her entire spine. She was sweating at this point. She was sure of it. Her lips felt empty without his and as they lay agape she couldn't form any words.

The tension between them mounted with every second that went by. Saber could feel Celica begin to tighten. He could see her also begin to unravel, opening up to him.

Her scent gripped him strongly now. That softness between her thighs beckoned for his tongue.

He knew she wanted him to kiss her again, that cute little mouth was begging for it, breathing hard and squeaking on cue every time he curled and twisted, shoving fingers inside of her up to his knuckles. But he would refrain from kisses now; he wanted to hear the priestess moan.

Finally, as he found a particular spot that made Celica shudder and hiccup in her groans, he felt her begin to tighten. He felt the grasp of her small hands on his wrist begin to grip with white knuckles, her brow furrowed in concentration, eyes almost tearful, begging.

This was his moment.

He pulled his fingers out of her, letting the air cool her essence on his skin. With no words, he grasped her panties from behind, rolling them off her legs. She lifted her pert ass to allow it to easily slip past her thighs, falling down to her ankles before crumpling to the floor. She was all his now.

Saber noted her shiver as he pressed his fingers to her core again. He swooped in for her lips, enjoying how desperate she puckered them for him. But he dodged her mouth, making her sigh in surprise as he sucked on her neck. He didn't bite. That would be for later

He inhaled, breathing in the thick scarlet curls around him, kissing down her white skin, sucking on her collarbone, tasting the slight tang of sweat. He desperately wanted to rip off her nightgown and give her breasts the same treatment, but he resisted. His hands traveled with him, moving down the sides of her body, down her figure.

Before he knew it, Saber was face to face with her bare heat. It radiated her lust and he could see its untouched nature. Just gazing upon it between her thighs, the clear, syrupy fluid that pooled on the wood of the table beneath her. It made him hard as a rock.

He kissed her thighs, giving a small nibble, feeling her shiver at that. He reveled in the feeling of her fingers grabbing desperately at his hair like reigns.

"Wh-What are you doing, Saber," Celica said, breathlessly, barely even enunciating the words that escaped her lips.

He answered her by finally planting his mouth on her bare lips. He kissed them like he kissed her mouth, pushing his tongue into her, swirling it, tasting her.

"A- _Ahh-_ " Celica moaned, cut off by her own pleasure. She pulled at his hair now. The pain goaded him on as much as how she tasted.

Gods, this was impossible. He had been with dozens upon dozens of women. From Rigel to Zofia, young and even older ones. But none of them tasted or smelled this…delicious. He couldn't describe it, but with every second that he feasted upon her virgin heat, he grew more harder, pulsing in desire. His hands were digging into her ass now, nails probably digging imprints into her soft skin.

He felt like a beast unworthy of even being here, being between this priestess' silky thighs, tongue buried into her untouched pinkness. He began to suck on her clit, feeling Celica's entire body shake. He reintroduced his fingers, her own threatening to make him bald. He didn't care. She was under his control now. All of the lust she felt, it made her wetter, made her that much more sumptuous. He kept sucking, kept kissing the bare lips of the tightest pussy he had ever seen in his entire life.

She finally came. Stiffening, her body shuddered violently.

Celica's screams of bliss were cut short as the orgasm relentlessly crashed through her. She breathlessly endured the bliss that threatened to carry her away, feeling heat expunge itself into Saber's awaiting mouth. She felt like crying. She felt like laughing. All at once the pleasure overwhelmed her more than anything she had ever felt before.

Sweet Mila, how could she have graced anyone with pleasure this strong?

It was numbing. Her limbs couldn't move. She couldn't even talk.

And Saber didn't stop.

He kept sucking, kept goading for more from her. And more she gave. She distantly felt his strong hands grab her buttocks again, the two fingers buried inside her begin to spread like a pair of scissors, but by that point, another series of waves crashed through her. Like a violent tide it cascaded through her skin, through her flesh. Her moans pathetically left her mouth in hiccups.

She didn't notice Saber stand, nor notice that her hands were around his neck.

She was gasping for air, trying to recenter herself. His fingers never left her moistness. They never let her rest.

Her desperate eyes only saw his own and how hungry they looked. From the corner of her vision she saw him undo his trousers, pulling them down gruffly with one hand. Something large and hard sprang forth. She didn't have time to properly look at it as he held it steady with the hand that wasn't still digging vigorously into her snatch.

"Lass," Celica heard faintly. "I'm at my breaking point. This might bring you pain but- "

"Please just _fuck_ me," she said, surprising herself. She bit her lip, feeling her entire being melt. She just wanted this man inside of her, she just wanted that pleasure to never end. And she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would make sure it didn't.

* * *

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	3. Chapter 3

Fortunately, not a second passed before she felt his fingers leave and instantly become replaced with something else. A flash of fear quickly sprinted across her eyes until she felt the throbbing head of Saber push past her folds.

" _Ah!_ " she moaned in surprise. Saber's strong hands kept her nightgown bundled up above her belly, fingers wrapped around her waist to keep her steady.

Saber's grip around the girl almost made his knuckles white. He was afraid if he clung too tightly to her she would break. Gods, she was tight. He still couldn't believe this was happening. That innocent yet confident priestess that had approached her in the tavern mere weeks ago, and here he was, his throbbing cock about to taint her forever.

His breath shuddered in absolute bliss as he slowly eased himself inside. Every inch that entered, Saber was afraid would be the last; she seemed too small to even accommodate him. But he kept going. Deeper and deeper, Celica's heat embraced him. Saber had to bite down on his lip to keep from groaning in pathetic shudders. His head throbbed inside of her moist heat; he was positive that if he didn't make a conscious effort to restrain himself, he would have reached his climax then and there.

They kept their gazes locked. Their labored breaths seemed to synchronize as their hearts hammered.

Finally, with one more last forceful push, Saber hilted himself.

Celica let out a loud gasp, shuddering. A few tears fell from her eyes. Her shivers echoed through her body, shimmering around Saber's hardness as she let out a succession of breaths. It felt so utterly full in a way she had never felt before. There was pain that flared, a sensation that felt like she was tearing at the seams. Instinctively her body kept shivering, trying to adjust itself to Saber's throbbing arousal pulsing and stretching her inner folds.

Saber was in no better state. He took a moment, looking at his crotch and felt another throb pulse through his hardness; the sight of her bare snatch wrapped around him snugly, all the way to the base of his cock was like something from a dream. Her clit was so pink and conspicuous, begging for stimulation.

He had to tear his gaze away lest the sight finished him then and there.

Returning it to Celica's face, he was surprised at how one thrust almost completely changed her demeanor. She was panting, blush heavy on her cheeks that obviously wasn't a product from the alcohol. Her eyes looked lost, hazy. The candlelight glinted off small trails of tears on her cheeks. But what took him aback was that there was something else roiling in her eyes. Something he never would have expected from a virgin, much less Celica.

He had taken the virginities of too many girls, more than he could count, so he recognized the mix of emotions on Celica's face. Fear, anxiousness, pain. But in all of those escapades, he never saw this much pleasure before, never saw this much bliss. The way she looked at him evoked a sense of hunger inside Saber, and his worry of blowing it all too early returned almost immediately.

After a few seconds of letting their collective breaths mark the passing of time, Saber clutched her tightly again, and extracted himself before pushing back inside. He watched her face closely as he did it again, and again, always pushing his hardness back inside once it was halfway out. He gritted his teeth at how she seemed to grip him every time he withdrew, how she seemed to suck him in every time he pushed in again.

Incredibly, at this point all he could read on Celica's face was that bliss. That carnal pleasure that wouldn't usually be present in girls her age. He looked down again and noticed that there was no blood either; she was too wet and ready for him for there to be any.

Before he knew it, he had a slow steady rhythm. Celica would whimper in tandem, goading his small thrusts, slowly mounting its progressive speed. He didn't want to go faster than he did now. He savored the feeling of her body so close against his, he savored every single inch of her suffocating snatch. As he had guessed when his tongue was inside of her, this was by far the tightest pussy he had ever encountered.

Pair that with how eager she was and again, Saber had half a mind to pinch himself awake.

"More," Celica said in a whisper.

Saber barely heard it over his own grunts, but the word seemed to have an instant effect on him regardless. He obliged, repositioning himself slightly, making his thrusts go faster. He let out a loud grunt again at how Celica squeezed him, like a pulsing hot glove.

Celica herself was still lost in a daze of irrevocable lust.

This was what she had wanted. A sensation strong enough to make her forget who she was, what she needed to do. All of her life she didn't think anything could make her forget but here she was, telling herself that her kingdom could wait.

She moaned without restraint as that fire in her belly became stoked. The pleasure of her previous climaxes was returning again in precious ingots, ingots given to her with every thrust of Saber's hips. At first she couldn't believe that he could even fit inside of her, but now, she wanted him _deeper_.

She was panting now as Saber's hips began to thrust in earnest. She could hear their skin begin to kiss in loud smacks, hear her pink moistness churned by his cock. Her entire body began to help him. She clung to him now, pushing her breasts still covered by the thin silk of her nightgown into his chest. She buried her face into his neck, kissing frantically, groaning loudly every time Saber would strike a spot that she didn't know existed.

She was his. Melting and hot and desperate, Celica gyrated against his hard body, nostrils gripped by his strong musk. The woman back at the port she hired him said he smelled like a tavern floor. But now, all she smelled was strength. Strength that could tear her apart in all the right ways. Strength that could make her forget about all the pain and all the responsibility.

"More," she said again, feeling his fingers react by gripping her tighter.

She breathlessly let out another moan as she thrust against him, her body writhing, undulating against him. She could feel his cock pulse harder, feel the head of it throb. She never felt so full in her life, so utterly stuffed.

A bead of sweat slipped beneath Saber's eyepatch. It went unnoticed as his thrusts turned into drives. He could swear that Celica was drawing blood with how hard her nails dug into him now, but he didn't care. At this point, as the orchestrated rhythm of his hips eventually buckled and began losing its structure, all he wanted was to give the teenage priestess what she wanted.

"Harder, please," she begged, her hot breaths crawling into his ear.

Saber growled, feeling her pebbly nipples dig through her nightgown into his chest. And he abided by her, going harder still. He could go harder and harder, but he still held most of that back. He could drive her into the table until it broke, but he needed to hold it back. Not because he could break her.

But because her damn body was too tight.

His palms firmly grasped her rear now. In and in and in he thrust, feeling the veins of his manhood begin to strain. He could feel something building in his loins, feeling his lust spread like wildfire throughout his body.

Celica suddenly rose up from his neck, looking at him deep in the eye. She let out a moan that turned into a whimper.

Without another word the hands behind his neck pulled him down, down, down. He was kissing her now, but his chest followed hers as she lay back on the table.

He didn't stop thrusting.

The table moved, scraped against the floor of the room as the thrusts moved it. Saber moved his hands to shoulders, feeling her soft legs raise into the air, ankles locking behind his back. She was a natural at this. The position was slightly awkward but he didn't care. He could feel the fire in his loins rage, the pressure at the root of his crotch begin to intensify. His tongue carelessly lashed about with Celica's as the sex began to grow less methodical. His drives turned into sloppy heaves, slapping his skin into hers, not caring about how she felt.

He felt her snatch begin to pulse around him, and before he knew it she came again, her thin frame undulating in waves. He didn't stop thrusting. He separated from her mouth. He wanted to hear her girlish moans, wanted to see that tongue of hers helplessly look for his.

"F-Fuck," Celica said, cursing for the second time that night as another climax ripped through her.

Saber could feel her squirt between them as he sunk his throbbing cock into her again for one of the last times. The tankards and the wine began to dance and pirouette precariously on the table as Saber's peak neared. Neither party cared as they fell to the ground. First one tankard. Then the other. But before the Ram Wine could teeter and shatter, Saber grabbed it.

He raised himself off of Celica, taking long, deep draughts as the girl below him mewled and gasped, calling his name.

He silenced her with his mouth again after emptying the bottle, throwing it across the room. The shatter of glass against the wall went unnoticed as his mouth, still half-filled with wine, captured hers. Purple sweetness of the alcohol trailed down Celica's face as their lips' sloppy embrace muffled their loud groans.

In and in and in and in, Saber wanted all of her. He didn't want it to end, he wanted that hot soft untouched skin around him, her rippling pink pussy to clench and squeeze, sucking on her tongue until he couldn't breathe. He separated from Celica's mouth, several strands of soppy saliva following it. He realized that she was tightening around him again, feeling wet heat squirt onto his stomach as another orgasm shredded her nerves.

He stopped his thrusting, letting his lungs breathe in deep intakes of missing air as he began to stand upright above her, swatting aside Celica's hands that tried to remain locked in his neck. He felt utterly naked now without the heat of the girl radiating onto his chest. But at this point, as he heaved with an almost animalistic hunger for release, that need for intimacy was forwent in favor of pure lust.

He took one last look at Celica as his hands firmly grabbed her waist. She was a piping hot mess.

Celica's hair served as a pillow as her head lolled about in a violent daze, moaning and yelping his name. The straps to her nightgown wilted down past her shoulders, revealing the topmost curve of her developing breasts. Her arms lazily thrashed as she rode out her climax, searching for a nonexistent hold on reality. All of her skin, from the the flat softness of her belly beneath her scrunched-up nightgown, to the paleness of her thighs, to the curve of her neck glowed with a thin sheen of her sweat. Celica was at her most vulnerable, at the mercy of Saber's muscle and experience.

Galvanized by the sight, his grip on her waist tightened, and without a second to spare he began to thrust, simultaneously shoving Celica's small frame into his crotch with his strong arms. The action made Celica shriek, her breath violently ripped from her lungs as Saber continued. This was the full manifestation of her voluntary vulnerability. The ceiling of the tavern room turned into a faint blur as Saber fucked her in earnest, using her body like a toy, causing her to helplessly go along for the ride like a ragdoll.

She felt the wood of the table scrape against her bare back as her nightgown slowly began to crawl upwards, her breasts rocking in tandem with the tremors. Celica could barely breathe, much less talk, but between her shrieks and moans, with her hands turning into fists, nails digging painfully into her skin, she could only utter two words, a plead:

"Fuck me, _augh, fuck_ me."

Over and over as Saber roughly began slamming her into his engorged cock, Celica began to plead intermittently with her careless groans. Her words were barely heard over the sloppy kisses of their skin, the wooden creak of the table, and over Saber's growling pants and his own pleasurable groans.

The fire that had be roiling in his loins was beginning to mount. Celica was impossibly tight. It was as if with every thrust, the girl would clench, suffocating his veiny lust until he would burst. His thrusts continued to grow more violent, every single heave of his hips reverberating through her body. The way Celica reacted and how her body fit was addicting; Saber knew he wouldn't be able to return to his tavern wenches after tonight. Never again would he find anything as perfect as the mewling teenage priestess below him, begging for his cock, begging for his lust.

Then, in the middle of a thrust that made Celica's back arch in carnal bliss, Saber let out a shudder, and came.

"L-Lass I-" Saber said before completely giving up on trying to say anything at all as his climax tore through his nerves, the pleasure making his vision blurry.

Saber pathetically thrust into her in lazy rolls of his hips, hilting himself and feeling multiple spurts of his seed begin to fire from his throbbing erection. His breaths left in a shuddering torrent of incoherent groans. He couldn't stand anymore, practically collapsing onto the table on top of Celica, the hands at her waist quickly seizing her wrists.

He held onto Celica with his entire being, burying his face into her neck before burying his teeth into her skin. She couldn't feel the pain, yelping only at how _good_ it felt as the white ropes of cum began to fill her unsullied womb. It felt so hot inside her, pooling itself in that one area that had never in her life been full of anything.

Saber's vision seemed to fade and melt as his climax kept going. One spurt gave way to two and that gave way to three. He let out lustful exclamations muffled in her skin, every rope of cum bursting from him more mind-numbing than the rope before it. He felt like he was emptying himself for good until finally, one last rope of semen shot into the teenager, leaving him throbbing and throbbing, breathless and exhausted.

Both parties let a minute pass in each other's arms, chests heaving, muscles slackening. Their skin was hot, pressed together in an increasingly-comforting embrace.

A million things collectively ran through their heads. But the most common thread between them was disbelief. With Saber above Celica, his head in her shoulder and hers in his, they had a moment's respite from each other's gazes. Their eyes were wide open now as the reality of the situation began to finally, truly sink in. Did they really just do this?

* * *

 _Had to split the sex chapter up. I'm at about 5k words and it's still ongoing; didn't want to overwhelm you folks with_ too _much smut._

 _As always, please fav and review! (And keep the flame wars down to a minimum, please? At least take it to PMs)_


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